


Dreaming, Wishing of better things - Febuwhump 2021

by It_is_Rene_Now



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Clay | Dream Whump, Disability, Dreamons, FebuWhump2021, Gen, Graphic Description, Hurt Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Major Character Injury, Mind Control, Multi, Not good Dream, Possession, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicide Attempt, Sympathetic Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Torture, Whump, but not really., but still kinda, ignorance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:46:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29131269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/It_is_Rene_Now/pseuds/It_is_Rene_Now
Summary: Febuwhump PromptsHello~ Yes I am participating in Febuwhump, so most of my writing will be spent on thisMost Whump prompts will be pretty short, maybe 400-1.5K words depending.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Sam | Awesamdude, Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF) & Everyone, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 26
Kudos: 242





	1. Day One - Mind Control

Dream intimately remembers the feeling of possession, the way it soaked his mind, turning his brain to mush as it felt like a wet blanket over his mind, shielding him from the doings of the Dreamon. 

It scratched at his mind tortuously, unable to do anything but watch as the Dreamon tore everything they worked so hard to complete, to create.

So he watched, world covered in a thick film of molasses, as the depths of his mind tortured him.

* * *

At first, it was a nagging feeling, a prickling at the edge of his mind, brining present thoughts forwards, thoughts and plans that were cruel and ruthless, but not entirely something unappealing or unusual for him to plan.

So they set a traitor, and attack, ambushing and using every single dirty trick that has gotten Dream this far.

The Prickling in his mind settles, soothed by the chaos it has stirred.

* * *

The second time, it was when Schlatt had entered his lands, whispering in his mind, like intrusive thoughts, what he could do with the power Schlatt cupped in his glass of wine so easily, commanding L'manberg and twisting points perfectly.

Dreams tongue was bitter and silver, dripping with lies that were not his own, and thoughts that he shoved deep down inside him long ago.

His puppets dance so prettily, once the strings are slowly wrapped around unsure limbs.

~~they are his friends, this is not him. these are not his thoughts.~~

* * *

it became a constant itch once Wilbur started to drive himself insane, laughing at the fact, the person who called him a _tyrant_ and a _monster_ and a _villain_.

Became all of those things.

Tommy watched with wary eyes, Techno caught as Dream stumbled over his choices.

* * *

The fragile string between Dream, and the now prevalent invading thoughts, that were not his own, obviously, became like screeching in his head, unable to focus, unaware of the way his body moved on its own.

it exiles tommy, it hurts tubbo, it hurts everyone, it destroys everything and he can't do anything about it because he is weak, because he was too weak to block it out, to ask for help. but for now, he was certain he was beyond helping.

* * *

the control is a pleasant haze, sticking like gooey lava, burning into his mind like a branding mark, that may be what it is pretty much? isnt it?

.  
.  
.

the lava burns into his hands, drowning out the haze for once, and he has levity. levity when tommy visits, levity when bad visits.

he is punished for his want for freedom by the voice.

the fog is retreating though, floating gently around ranboo, attaching itself to his powerful soul, unbound by the dark prison.

* * *

it has been over 8 months since Dream was first taken control of.

it took 8 months for him to break.

dream is no more. and all is left is a shattered puppet in a husk of a body.

.

.

.

...

do they mourn?


	2. Day Two - "I can't take this anymore"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: IRL characters, self-hatred, suicide attempt and succession, self-harm, implied suicide baiting, ignorance to suffering.
> 
> I'm kinda projecting on Dream a bit here... and projecting my old friends on the other SMP members so...

Dream logically knew the SMP was fake, it was scripted and it was a roleplay.

It didn't stop it from sounding real though, because not all is perfect and sometimes he'll let buried emotions slip in when he's acting on the script, he'll say something extra that shuts him away from his friends until he eventually goes for their forgiveness.

It was a never ending loop, and stuck in that loop he had to deal with the barbs and thorns that prick at him, making him bleed when he tries to escape, even for a bit, because god forbid a friend of his sounds sad talking about him, he's got a hoard of angry fans sliding into his dms and telling him he was awful, a manipulator, a pedo and even telling him to kill himself.

He watched the computer screen emptily, as Ranboo streams, watching as the chat berates him, before switching over to twitter, monotonously scrolling through the dms upon dms, for every 1 amazingly sweet fan there was, there was about 3 to 4 hate dms.

People had even came and done psychological breakdowns on him, calling him obsessive, or egotistical.

He was just so fucking tired.

* * *

Everyone was preparing for the confrontation Stream, where Dream would be brought out to exorcise the ghosts in the script.

It was going all fine until the _voices came again telling him he was a villain and that he didn't deserve anything less than this, he was an abuser and manipulative and he spent his time where he belongs, so he should do this to repent-_

He couldn't fucking _breathe_

"I-" everyone paused in the script as Dream choked out a sob, "I-I can't take this anymore..." Dreams voice was weak and wet, soaked in honey dripped blood and promises, sullied by the way the world broke down on him, kicking him when he was already _down_.

"Dream?-" Sapnap asked, shushing everyone as they shut their streams off slowly making exscuses.

"Do- do you need me to come up there?" Dream felt his nails rake gently across his wrists. He probably should.

"I- i can't i can't i can't-" Dreams voice was hysteric, which sent the others into a panic because Dream was usually calm and collected, or loud and funny.

Not...

_this_

they didn't know how to deal with it, as Dream left the call.

Ignorance only hurts.

This is the case of such.

* * *

Dream doesn't cry in pain when the itch in his wrists go away, messy nail paths raked into his skin, deep enough to draw blood.

Dream needs to be stronger and better. He knew what he was getting into on going into Youtube, and he fucked up so much, got too lucky, said the wrong thing...

It was his fault, wasn't it?

Lying here on the bathroom floor, Sapnap knocking on the door worried, Drista not far behind, having rushed here after hearing her brother freak out.

The world blacked out.

* * *

**[Youtube Gamer Dream attempted suicide after a disastrous stream on his minecraft server the 'Dream SMP']**

.  
.  
.

Bliss is just happy ignorance after all.

Standing here, Sapnap wonders, how willfully they lived in blissful ignorance to Dreams struggles.

_Clay xxxx_

_Dreamwastaken_

_August 12 1999 - February 16 2021_

_A best friend, a brother and a son to all._


	3. Day Three - Imprisonment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Dreams Imprisonment
> 
> Warnings for: Dehumanization, Self-harm, Poisoning, Starvation, Torture (self-torture?), Abandonment, Graphic descriptions of gore?

Dream knows he deserves this as much as he doesn't deserve it, Because realistically if Dream were to want everyone who had done something illegal or morally wrong in the server, everyone would be locked up in this prison.

But that is neither here nor there.

-

It is of no surprise to Dream, when a couple weeks after he is imprisoned, the threats for his knowledge, to bring back Wilbur is sought out desperately, the bruises that his face and stomach bore were of enough proof of the anger and need Tommy, Tubbo, and the others who sought the Book felt.

But Dream is not a kind person anymore, his soft smiles sullied by accusations of tyranny before his shattered shards of manipulations sunk themselves into the fragile earth below him, where he once walked, so he watches and laughs and smiles as they are withered away, all morality and facades of heroism were burnt down into ash in their desperation.

He wonders. If they understand how he drowned in desperation, his soft and pliant soul hardening into cold unforgiving metal as he scrambled to regain what was his.

There are no heroes. 

But here, in the eyes of all, he is as Villainous as it gets.

* * *

He really shouldn't be surprised, when the torture starts. At first its tempting him for food, in exchange for the book, but the contents in the book are far too powerful for people like them to hold, because once they start they won't stop and its addicting the power you are given, but Dream always had power, so it is not nearly as tempting.

His torture is silence, is the bubbling that is so inviting outside his cell, it is the lack of sleep, food and the hallucinations that bore with the long time effects of eating raw potatoes.

Until it is _so_ much more, watching as people visit, trying to coax it out of him through fake sweet smiles, gossamer threads of promises in freedom, lies pickling at his finger tips.

So unaware how they are retying the puppet strings in their want for the book he owns.

He is bruised and scarred and tired after months, his hair is matted and mask cracked, any dignity he owned was gone.

He could not find it in himself to care, as his hands disintegrate under the burning sun soaked heat of the Lava that caressed him when he is shoved into it, it is the drowning silence as he is shoved head first underwater, welcoming the darkness that swallows his senses and the bursting feeling in his throat as he fades away.

It's fun, because for the first time in forever he can feel something other than the emptiness that swallows his soul and dismembered him.\

He watches as the anvil is cracked down onto his back, he has no where to run, he watches as his arms are burned and scarred and ruined.

And he has not seen anyone in months, so he wonders what they would think, seeing him here ruined and dirty and disgusting, unable to move and think of anything other than the burning in his spine and the poison in his head.

* * *

But of course, he heals, but he limps and he shakily moves and he realizes that, 

_oh, they had never touched him, he had only done this to himself_

but there is a bridge, and a note that slides from the dispenser of a need for him to leave the prison, something of an egg and lies.

and a Dreamon.

He laughs and laughs, hysterical where he will not be seen nor judged because the whispering thoughts and the uncontrollable movements was not him but a parasite that did this. 

But he is not a good person either way, he thinks, he might have done the same thing, because Dreamons are a blank slate, that take all your bad and evil and negative wants and needs and executes them when you are unable. But he is not good nor just so he lets them believe such,

And he stumbles into the sunlight for the first time in months, or years, or however long it has been, and his legs are jelly and he is disfigured and he can hear people coming, but he cannot find it in himself to care.

"He should be out unless he's too much of a bastard to care-" The annoying loud, and nostalgic voice of the curse and blessing of the SMP comes around the corner, and he will relish in the horror they will feel because they hurt him as much as he hurt them too.

He meets the eyes of Tommy, Tubbo, Techno and Philza (They had been allowed to return?), Sapnap, George, Sam, Punz, Bad and Puffy, Niki further back.

He sees the way they look at his shaky limbs, unsure but so sure at the same time, burnt and ruined and twisted and bloody and gross, scarred and destroyed, taken apart limb by limb by himself, sees his shallow breathing from the effects of drowning and his milky eyes that burn with hatred, and sadness and loneliness that he was never allowed to heal from unlike them, and they realize.

Dream had never healed the same way they were able to.

And they doubt he ever will.

Looking at him they see a pure representation of the server they left behind, the server they left him in years ago.


	4. Day Four - Impaled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Impalement, Suffocation, Being Strung up, Past Abuse, Implied Torture training.

Dream knows he's fucked up when he gets a call from the Admin council, something of an Egg that's infecting the stability of the realms, and hurting everyone else.

_And he had failed his job as an Admin._

His blood runs cold at that, he remembers the training he was put through every minor realm he opened and killed for his friends enjoyment, how he manipulated the code in a way he only was able to, but the admins did not like that.

He hoped. This would not ruin him more in the eyes of his ~~friends~~ realms citizens.

* * *

Tommy walked assured beside Tubbo and Philza, a bit tenser around his father but Sam's presence calmed him down enough.

The egg once removed from the SMP, had fled to other lands, hurting other people and infecting the code like a parasite and they would be here to see the punishment for their failure to keep inner problems, well, inner.

The crowd was large surprisingly, he could see people from HermitCraft, X Life SMP, OfflineTV, and so many more minor realms, held in the palms of Minor Gods.

_Speaking of Minor Gods, who exactly did the Green Bastard get to make the SMP's land._

After all, it was common knowledge that any damage done to the lands of a realm owner, weighed on them like a weight, unmoving and unrelenting, burning into their backs until it is too much and they are in excruciating pain.

They all sit down, waving to respective friends as the admins bring out... a post of sorts that made Tommy's skin crawl for an unknown reason.

The Admins, Major gods, looked unforgiving and unlike any owner of a realm Tommy had ever known himself, and that says a lot about it, since Tommy knows Philza, and Philza knows... a lot of people.

But that is unimportant, as _Dream_ , the tyrannical bastard himself is brought into view, he ignores the sickness that wells up in his stomach when he realizes, he had not seen, nor heard of anyone visiting the now unmasked man in almost a year.

_It is what he deserves._

But dull green meets his eyes, and he sees the old him who tempted the thought of death, playing with it as if it was easy, the scars littering his forearms from Sam's time under the influence of the Egg that spoke of abuse and mistreatment and the figure once slender and toned, was just soft and slim with malnourishment. 

He ignores the way broken noises come out of the mouths of the others, and ignores the own realization of how Dream had been stuck, salt burning into an open wound with no one to patch it up.

It only gets worse from there.

Everyone watches in horrified silence as Dream moves infront of the post, metal chains securing around his wrists and neck.

He didn't react, didn't thrash or fight it or yell, and the other Realm owners looked solemn. 

He wanted to shout, wanted to protest or do _something_ as Dream chokes loudly, being pulled up and tied to the post by the chains alone, here's the mournfully low noise that leaves Puffy and Foolish's mouths as they watch their adoptive son/brother, be strung up like cattle.

Without even a moment to react, Dream;s wrists and legs are impaled, and all that blood only draws a soft pained noise out of him.

 _Like he was used to it_.

"This, is to show, what happens when you fail to do your jobs as an admin." One of them says loudly, voice emotionless and dull.

_Uncaring_

He wonders if Bad should have been the one to be strung up.

But there is no use wondering that now.

* * *

_Cruelty Breeds Cruelty. That is no excuse for the pain Dream brought others, it is just merely a fact._


End file.
